


Mis-Information

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Characters - Friendship, Fellowship of the Ring, Humor, Multi-Age, Plot - I reread often, Plot - Joy, Writing - Good use of humor, a bit of innuendo and mental imagery...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2003-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-29 03:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3881075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know those hilaiously funny moments when somehow a communication is garbled or misinterpreted? Here is a series of light-hearted moments experienced by members of the Fellowship. No particular chronological order. Warning: a bit of innuendo and mental imagery...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hiccup One: Carols in a Court

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

_**Summary:** Light-hearted, and as canonical as I could get. No particular chronological order, just a jumble of vignettes. A bit of innuendo, though. Inspired by Insomniac Luddite and JastaElf. _

~*~

"Are you all right, beloved?"

Aragorn nodded as his wife’s radiant face appeared by his side. They were in the Court of the Fountain, where he had been gazing at White Tree for the past hour. The Tree that he had planted so many years ago was growing beautifully, the pride of the White City, and a symbol of the kinship between the Kings of Men and the Eldar that had come from beyond Middle-Earth.

"I was remembering my mother," he answered, smiling slightly to ease her anxious face. "She would have been glad to see this. She had hoped that it would be I who would restore the Tree and the City of my forefathers. I hope you are not jealous, meleth-nin." He wore his most roguish grin. "But you are not the only woman for whom I braved the dangers of the wild and the shadows of the world."

His words achieved their desired effect, and Arwen smiled as she embraced him warmly. He felt some of the tension in him loosed up at her touch. "You have always been a bit of a scoundrel," she said teasingly, in a mock-shocked voice. "Then I suppose you will forgive me if I tell you that I had a secret lover also."

At that exact moment, Elrohir came strolling down the path towards them. At the sight of him, in conjunction with what Arwen had just said, the King and Queen of Gondor burst out laughing.

"What is this?" Elrohir asked with a raised eyebrow. "Somehow I sense I have been the topic of conversation."

"I would hope not," said Aragorn, chuckling. "Is he?"

"Of course not!" Arwen replied, in a genuinely shocked voice, swatting her husband lightly on the arm. "He’s my brother!"

"So am I," Aragorn retorted, blocking a second swat.

"That’s bad enough."

"Elrohir, what have you done?" Elladan asked with resignation as he joined them, glaring at his twin.

"Why is it always me?" Elrohir exclaimed. "Even when I barely say anything, it’s still my fault!"

"In most cases, it often is."

"Peace, brothers," Aragorn cut in before things got out of hand. "We were just discussing your sister’s illicit affairs."

"WHAT?" Now both twins had their eyes on him.

Arwen only threw her hands up helplessly and roared with laughter. "Nay," she gasped. "We were – speaking – of his – mother."

Unfortunately, though she had meant to point towards her husband, Legolas and Gimli had come up the other path and were standing right behind Aragorn, and her less-than-steady finger could have indicated any one (or all) of the three.

"Gimli’s’mother had an illicit affair?" asked a very confused Elladan.

This only made Arwen laugh harder (and she was joined by her husband now). At the same time the Dwarf mentioned bellowed "WHAT?" for, as we all know, it was a grave insult in the dwarven world to accuse another’s parents of infidelity. Legolas, sensing that there was a joke at hand yet not willing to be subject to his friend’s glare, kept his face impassive, though a corner of his mouth twitched slightly when the dwarf wasn’t looking.

"Nay!" Arwen tried again, her face flushed now. She tried to catch her breath before she elaborated further, but unfortunately the twins misinterpreted her hand gestures.

"Wait- Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli had an illicit affair with Gimli’s mother?" ventured Elladan.

Aragorn nearly toppled onto the floor, his limbs flaccid with the effort of laughing. Fortunately for the twin sons of Elrond, Gimli had always thought that elves had a strange sense of humour, and as Aragorn and Arwen seemed to find the situation amusing, he decided to shrug it off as another poor joke from the incorrigible half-elves.

 

Elladan and Elrohir, on the other hand, had of course realised that they were talking nonsense, but this new game of trying to guess what their sister was attempting to mime was far too much fun to give up on just yet.

"Not – Gimli’s – mother," she managed to say between wheezes.

"With each other?" suggested Elrohir.

When the King finally herded the laughing party back into the Citadel, the White Tree was still shaking, a few leaves dropping onto the fountain-pool. Others who saw it thought that the wind was slightly odd that day, for the Tree was obviously trembling- almost as if it were giggling.

" _Kelvar_ ," he muttered fondly.

~*~

_Kelvar_ \- fauna; used by Yavanna when speaking to Manwe. "But the kelvar can flee or defend themselves, whereas the olvar that grow cannot" so I interpreted it as flaura and fauna, respectively.


	2. Hiccup Two: Bedlam in Bag End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know those hilaiously funny moments when somehow a communication is garbled or misinterpreted? Here is a series of light-hearted moments experienced by members of the Fellowship. No particular chronological order. Warning: a bit of innuendo and mental imagery...

“Have you seen those carrots I bought yesterday, Mr. Frodo?”

Frodo looked up from his writing-desk at a very flustered Sam. They were expecting Merry, Pippin, Rosie, and Fatty for dinner, and Sam had spent the day preparing what was beginning to look like a banquet, even by hobbit standards.

“Sorry Sam, no,” he replied, wondering how in Middle-Earth he would know the whereabouts of anything in Sam’s kitchen- Bag End may be his, but the kitchen had belonged to Sam even before they had left for the Quest of Mount Doom. He couldn’t help smiling as his friend walked off, muttering under his breath about walking vegetables. It was a very rare occasion when the son of Hamfast misplaced anything, and Frodo usually enjoyed seeing Sam flustered every now and then instead of him

Someone knocked at the door, then found that it was unlocked and walked right in. “Master Holdwine has entered Bag End!” announced Merry, swaggering in and displaying the White Horse upon Green embroidered on his tunic (a gift from Éomer). In the pantry Sam gave a loud yelp, shouting “Merry! Goodness, you weren’t suppose to arrive for an hour!”

“There’s a first for everything, Sam,” Frodo called with a grin, making one more pen-stroke on the parchment before getting up and embracing his cousin. “I still can’t get over the fact that you’re a couple of inches taller than me now, Merry, though you and Pippin had been the shorter of us four.”

Merry grinned. “My da says that it will help me when I become Master of Buckland, because then I can bodily throw out anyone who doesn’t see eye-to-eye with me.” The sound of a large pile of sundry crashing to the floor came from the pantry. “Say, is Sam all right? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s looking for something.”

Frodo laughed. “Yes, he’s misplaced some carrots.”

Merry whistled. “I s’ppose there is a first for everything. Sam, you managed to cross into Mordor carrying your cooking gear- how on Middle-Earth did you lose carrots?”

“Anyone mention carrots?”

The two hobbits turned to find the fourth member of the Travelers coming into the study. It appeared as if, as always, Merry and Pippin had coordinated their clothing, for Pippin was proudly wearing a tunic with the White Tree upon Black (a gift, strangely enough, from Gimli).

“Sam’s looking for some,” replied Merry.

“Some what?”

“Carrots!”

“And a little help would be welcome!” Sam’s voice was rather muffled, like he was buried under something (which turned out to be the sundry).

An hour, a pantry-excavation and four very worn-out hobbits later, the vegetables were still missing. The hobbits searched separate rooms and hallways first, then crisscrossed and re-checked each others’ search areas. Frodo realised that the seemingly fruitless search was bringing out a side of his friends that he’d never seen before, when he overheard guttural sounds emanating from Pippin when they passed each another in a narrow corridor. Frodo knew enough of other languages to tell that it was in dwarven, and by the look on the hobbit’s face less than complimentary, but where had he learned it?

“Pippin, if you don’t stop asking for a dragon to lay waste to all the potato fields on Middle-Earth and turn all of Sam’s ancestors into trees so you can hew at them with Durin’s axe, I’m going to knock you out and leave you in the Old Forest for the trees.,” shouted Merry from an adjoining room. “Maybe then they’d leave Buckland alone.”

“More likely they’ll flee and take up shelter in Buckland after having to put up with him for a few days,” called Frodo with a laugh.

“If you two go on like that I’ll stuff Sam’s carrots down your throats when I find ‘em!” retorted Pippin

“Did anyone say carrots?” said Sam from another room.

“No, Sam, we were talking about the Old Forest and Pippin’s dragon.”

“Pippin’s dragon?” A pause. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know that Mr. Pippin likes trees so much.”

Laughter hooted from one room with the sound of something large hitting something fluffy. “Merry, if you damage my bed you’ll be enjoying the Old Forest with Pippin!” Frodo shouted down the hallway.

“Mr. Merry too?”

Frodo sighed, fighting the urge to laugh even as a rather unpleasant mental image appeared in his mind. Shuddering, he determinedly tried to think of something else. “No, Sam, you see-“

He didn’t get to finish his sentence, for the sound of something crashing came from his bedroom. Fearing what Merry might have done to his beautiful feather mattress, he stormed up the hallway and into his bedroom, Pippin hot on his heels and cursing in dwarven with renewed vigour.

Just then Fatty and Rosie arrived, and were greeted by a red-faced Sam.

“Hullo, Sam,” said Fatty cheerily. “Where is Frodo?” he asked, eyeing the vacant writing-desk he always found Frodo in. His question was answered by a loud yell from Frodo’s bedroom.

“Merry, get out of my bed!”

“Ouch! You needn’t be so rough, Frodo.” Someone cursed loudly. “And keep your dragon to yourself, Pip!”

“Ouch! That was uncalled-for, Merry! Get down now, or I’ll force-feed you a dragon!”

“Ouch! Now what was that for, Pip! And I think I should have a talk with Gimli about the things he teaches young hobbits…”

Clearing his throat, Sam tried to shake the mental image forming in his mind. “Mister Merry and Mister Pippin arrived early, and helped with… preparing dinner,” he said shakily. “Let’s go to the table, shall we?”

“Hey, I found it! Sam, I found your carrots- looks like Frodo’s been hogging them all along!”

~*~


End file.
